Decision
by BBC Addict
Summary: Jim's facing a painful loss and Spock wants to help. Companion to Reflection and Regret. Post The Paradise Syndrome.


After Jim had all but run from the bridge, Spock seated himself in the captain's chair and bent forward, propping his elbows on his knees, steepling his index fingers and pressing them against his lips. His captain was hurting and Spock, in an very un-Vulcan fashion, had no desire to stamp out the compassion he felt for him. Spock knew Jim would spend the night in his cabin, alone except for a bottle of some type of alcohol. He would blame himself for the native woman's death—Miramanee, his wife, according to the natives' customs. Doubtless he would also be thinking about Carol and David. Spock would not, however, allow himself the emotional reaction of sighing.

Spock continued to sit motionless for some time, drawing a few curious looks from the various crewmen on the bridge. He noticed, of course, but they did not concern him. He was evaluating the potential success of every course of action he could think of that might help Jim deal with the loss. A Vulcan would mourn, though in a very understated manner, and spend a great deal of time in meditation. Some would take a new mate; others would not. None would withdraw into a drunken stupor in a futile attempt to forget. _Forget. _That always seemed to be the human method of coping with difficulties. They would strive to forget by any means available, be it alcohol or excessive amounts of work or shallow, sexual encounters. Jim already worked excessively, drank plenty, and Spock knew for a fact he had a fair number of sexual encounters, though they were not all necessarily shallow. He knew none of those options would serve to help Jim forget—not for long, anyway.

There was one option Spock could offer that would allow Jim to forget permanently. Vulcans could, via mind-melds, alter a person's memories. The targeted memory would not be erased, but it would not be accessible without the aid of another mind-meld.

To Spock, it seemed the only solution. The question was whether to suggest it to Jim, to just do it without his knowledge, or to mind his own business. In most cases, Spock would mind his own business without a second thought, but this was the captain; _Jim_. Spock thought another opinion would be useful. There was only one person he would deign to ask, though he suspected that person would not hesitate to use the situation against Spock when the opportunity arose; however, Jim's mental well-being was worth sacrificing a little of his own dignity. Spock left Sulu in command and headed to sickbay.

* * *

Dr. McCoy looked up as the doors to sickbay hissed open. He was surprised to see the Vulcan First Office enter his domain. McCoy knew there had to a be a serious reason for his appearance as Spock was always reluctant to visit sickbay, so he didn't greet him with his normal flippancy. "Spock," he said with a nod.

"I wish to ask your opinion, Doctor," Spock said.

McCoy couldn't help but raise his eyebrows at that. Spock _never_ wanted his opinion. He gave it anyway, of course, but this was downright weird. His expression grew even more surprised as Spock explained his concern. A thoughtful frown settled on McCoy's face as Spock concluded.

"Well, Spock, I never figured you'd be the one to suggest invading someone's mind as an act of mercy. I understand why you want to do it, though. When Jim gets depressed, we all suffer." McCoy had no qualms about sighing. "If Jim was the only person to worry about here, I'd say let him work through it himself. But he's not. I have to think about the well-being of the entire ship. Our mission isn't over and we can't have the captain falling apart on us." McCoy sighed again. "I say do it, Mr. Spock. Don't tell him, just do it."

Spock nodded once. "Thank you, Doctor." He turned to leave. McCoy called after him. "Just this once, all right?"

Spock didn't reply as he left. He returned to the bridge briefly to ask Uhura whether the captain had sent any messages—he thought it likely Jim would try to contact Carol. He nearly always mentioned her when he'd had too much to drink. Uhura informed him that he had. Spock, believing the coast would now be clear, thanked her and left the bridge again. He headed to Jim's cabin. He lingered outside the door a few moments, using his acute senses to detect any signs of movement within. He heard none, so he entered silently.

He found the captain out cold, slumped in his chair over a half-finished glass of something...Romulan ale, judging by the color. Spock easily hoisted Jim out of the chair and placed him on his bunk. He knelt next to the bed and lightly positioned his hand on Jim's face. He sifted through the memories easily; the ones he sought were all near the surface. "Forget," he commanded.

* * *

**This is a companion piece to _Reflection and Regret_. You should read that first. I stole this ending from Requiem for Methuselah. I've said it before, I believe, but I'll say it again. Kirk should have been far more torn up about the death of Miramanee and his unborn child than the android Rayna, so here's a possibility of why we don't see that.**


End file.
